


Take On My Proposal.

by IveFallen4



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No New Dangan Ronpa V3 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28856310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IveFallen4/pseuds/IveFallen4
Summary: It wasn’t surprising, hearing the chime of the doorbell. After basically announcing his own lack of self-worth and desire to become a sacrifice in order for the others to live on for another day, someone arriving to, well, complete the deed was inevitable. Right?Set during the events of Chapter 1, after Ryoma proposes himself to be used as a sacrifice in order for the remaining students to live another day.
Relationships: Gokuhara Gonta/Hoshi Ryoma
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Take On My Proposal.

It wasn’t surprising, hearing the chime of the doorbell. After basically announcing his lack of self-worth and desire to become a sacrifice for the others to live on for another day, someone arriving to, well, complete the deed was inevitable. Right? Ryoma had taken a seat on the edge of his bed, body hunched slightly to give himself a slightly smaller appearance, which was hard due to his height, and was just staring vacantly into the empty space around him.

That was, until, the chime began, and here he was, slowly approaching the door. Who was on the other side of the door? Ryoma had to wonder; was it Kokichi? Miu? Hell, it may even be Korekiyo or Maki, they both looked like they could kill someone. Not like that was information that Ryoma would let leave his mouth. It wasn’t like him to speak ill of people, even if he didn’t like them.

With no response to the chime of the doorbell, the tennis-pro reached a short had up, swinging the door open to see...

Well, that was the last face he expected to see on the other side of the door.

The body immediately being covered in the shadows caused by the gargantuan figure of the man that stood behind the door, Ryoma simply breathed through his nose, head tilting up to look the other man right in the other. It was Gonta Gokuhara; the Ultimate Entomologist that was way too pure for this world. That seemed to be the core reason as to why it shocked the shorter man to see him standing right there, an anxious expression plastered right all over his features. 

“Ah, Gonta. Come in. I’m assuming you’re here to take on my proposal, no?”

Stepping to the side to allow the entomologist into his room, however to his surprise the other man didn’t move. Gonta appeared to be, well, anxious, which was a foreign emotion that Ryoma had never seen the giant express before. Fiddling was something that Gonta never did, at least whenever Ryoma observed him during their morning meetings for breakfast unless Kokichi was making a complete fool of himself and was trying to rope Gonta into his selfish schemes. “Ah! No, no Gonta not here to kill you! Gonta heard what you said this morning, and... Wanted to check up on you.”

Ah, so that was it.  
Honestly, Ryoma couldn’t exactly say he was surprised by this. It was precisely in Gonta’s own selfless and pure nature to have the desire to check up on anyone if he knew they were struggling. An exhale left the shorter man’s throat, and he reached a hand up to fix the beanie that was beginning to bunch up around the seams. “Well, Gonta, if you really want to check up on me, the offer still stands.” Giving a slight head-nod towards his dormitory room, Ryoma was giving the taller man permission to enter. That permission was always there from the start anyway.

With a gentle nod, Gonta stepped foot into the room, and after taking a few more steps just kind of, stopped. Stopped dead in his tracks in the center of the room, glancing back towards Ryoma. Waiting for him. God, that was... Kind of cute. Endearing, really. Upon realizing these own thoughts that shifted right into Ryoma’s mind, his body grew timid and frozen, as he mentally blocked off the stream of such thoughts from reaching his ears. Thankfully, Gonta seemed to not even realize the way that Ryoma’s face darkened to a soft shade of pink, as he was busy fiddling with his glasses, which seemed to keep sliding down his face. 

With a dismissive wave of the hand, the tennis-pro approached his bed, stepping past Gonta and giving a faint nod up in his general direction. From here, Ryoma sat himself down onto his bed and gave a light pat to the vacant spot beside him. Almost ecstatically, Gonta approached the bed, and after looking at Ryoma he sat down. Immediately, the bed sank slightly beneath the larger man’s weight, and Ryoma found his body shifting slightly towards the general direction of the giant. For a while, the pair of them was silent. Ryoma had nothing to say; Gonta had been the one to come knocking after-all. After staring at vacant space for a few moments whilst still mentally blocking out the thoughts that seemed to come flooding down the moment he felt the taller man beside him, Ryoma glanced to the side. Where he found Gonta staring at him, tears building up at the edges of his eyes.

What?

What was Gonta all upset for?

Was it… His fault?

A pang of guilt, which felt all too familiar and hit close to home, twisted in Ryoma’s gut. What was Gonta so upset about? Cocking his head to the side slightly, the tennis-pro kept his attention solely on the gentle giant before him, studying his expression quietly. “Gonta, what’s wrong? I haven’t upset you have I?” Spoken in his signature deep voice which really didn’t match his appearance, Ryoma brought a foot up, swinging it over his thigh which was followed by the sound of a chain clicking as the metal attached to his leg clicked against itself. Silence enveloped them again, but it merely lasted a moment, as Gonta brought both of his large hands forward, cupping them around the much smaller hands of the tennis-pro.

“Gonta… Gonta is worried about Ryoma. Ryoma says he has no reason to live, but that can’t be true, can it?” It seemed as though Gonta was genuinely concerned for the shorter man, and the way his hands gripped onto the smaller pair of hands made Ryoma’s face heat up. They were so warm and had a sort of tenderness to them that Ryoma found hard to describe. Still staring at the taller man, a sigh shook Ryoma’s body, and he glanced down at their hands, “Gonta, I’m sorry if I’ve worried you. But it’s true. It’d be much better if I were to die, a man that will simply be thrown back into prison once we inevitably escape this place, rather than all of you dying. You all have futures, but me? I don’t have anything. Nothing to live for, no one to live for.” It was a bitterly harsh and honest truth. There was no one left in this world for Ryoma, they were all gone. Dead.

Dead was what Ryoma was better off being.

Naturally, Gonta appeared to be completely distraught by this response. Noting how his hands were held gradually tighter now, Ryoma was also able to feel the sensations of light trembling coming from the taller man. Oh. That had been a poor response, hadn’t it? There was that guilt again; hitting him hard in the gut and causing the tennis-pro to bite his lip. Thankfully this action did not draw blood, at least from what he was able to tell. “Ryoma doesn’t have anything? But… But why? Does he not have a family?”

Oh. Oh, he should’ve expected that question to pop up sooner or later. Despite having the knowledge that this question would inevitably rear its ugly head, it still hurt. It was a question with an ugly and horrible truth, a truth splattered with blood, and death, and so much despair. Despair. Yeah, that was the best way to describe it. Truth be told, Ryoma’s past wasn’t a happy one. After being invited to play in an underground tennis tournament, which had been hosted by a mafia organization, he at first ignored the invitations, but they just kept coming so out of pure annoyance Ryoma did, eventually, accept. Upon arriving at the tournament, it was revealed that he had been tricked, and was forced to play in fixed matches that the rich were betting on. At first, he had decided to just go along with the mafia’s plan, that was until he reached his final opponent. He was supposed to lose, however, he ended up smashing the opponent in the courts, having destroyed the mafia’s reputation in the process.

That’s when it happened.  
A massacre of the entire Hoshi family. Everyone was brutally murdered as revenge for destroying the reputation of the mafia. He thought that she was safe; he swore he had been able to hide her so that no one could touch her. Alas, this failed. Even his girlfriend, the lady he had loved so much and held so dearly in his arms, was dead. Murdered. The body stuffed inside of a duffel bag for him to inevitably find. 

It was only in an act of pure and utter revenge did Ryoma do what he did next. It was an easy task, taking down the entire mafia. Especially with a metal ball and the title of being the Ultimate Tennis-Pro. It didn’t take long for all of the members of the mafia to fall, dead as his own family. Then he was alone. Completely alone. Sent to death row to atone for his crimes against the world. Seemingly, he had thrown away his entire future in an instant; and now there was nothing left to live for. Not even his cat, his beloved cat, which had been given away to a friend not soon after he had been arrested, and it had surely forgotten about his existence at this stage. Which was good. No one deserved to remember him.

“Ryoma you’re shaking..” It was then that Ryoma was snapped back into reality; guided by the gentle voice of the man who still held his hands firmly. Oh, so he was. It took a moment to properly compose himself, his breathing was heavy for a few moments and his heart rate basically roared throughout his ears. Even in Gonta’s hands, he could feel his body shaking, but… there was something about sitting there, having his hands held, which was just… comforting. Warm. It was just what he needed, but… he couldn’t have it. Not again. The mafia may come back; take Gonta away and he’d be alone again. “Heh... I suppose you’re right.” Words followed by a faint and hoarse laugh, which was plagued by the sound of sadness that trailed off the sound. This didn’t amuse Gonta all that much, who just meekly gave a faint nod before tightening his hold on the hands. At this point, Ryoma wouldn’t be too surprised if his hands wound-up to be completely broken. 

“Ryoma, Gonta wants to know why he is sad, and why he believes he has no reason to live. Surely he has a reason to live, even something as small as bugs! Or something that Ryoma is interested in!” Throughout Gonta’s little speech, his voice gained more enthusiasm, all the while his grip on the other man’s smaller hands tightened, causing Ryoma to clench his teeth ever-so-slightly. Staring down at the hands that held his own, Ryoma took in a deep breath, trying to control his heart-rate. “Why I’m sad, huh? That.. That doesn’t matter.” It was simple. It really, really didn’t matter. Gonta couldn’t change the past, no one could. What had been done, had been done, and now the consequences had to be lived with. Feeling the soft sensation of small circles being rubbed against his hands sent a shiver down the tennis pro’s spine, but he didn’t make a comment regarding the notion. “Of course it matters! Gonta thinks it matters, so it does!” Well, he was very enthusiastic about it now. It was growing harder to ignore the puppy-dog eyes that he was currently being given; which looked so innocent and pure and just wanted to help.

“If I tell you, do you promise you’ll stop worrying so much?”  
“Gonta promises!”

Well, this was going to be quite the conversation.

**Author's Note:**

> G'Day! This is my second fan-fiction and was requested by someone. Not me writing this at three in the damn morning.
> 
> Also, this chapter ended on a bit of a cliff-hanger, but don't worry I am writing a second chapter.


End file.
